


Sneaking In

by heymacareyna



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: College AU, M/M, Malec, can you help me sneak my cat into the dorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3949654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heymacareyna/pseuds/heymacareyna





	Sneaking In

As celebration for having made it all the way to senior year, Alec moved into his dorm room a week early. Not that he needed the extra time to set up much of anything—he just threw a set of light-blocking curtains over the window, tugged mismatched sheets onto the single mattress, hung his few sweaters and jeans in the closet, and then slouched down in comfort with a worn favorite book. The week and a half before classes started, in his opinion, was best spent exactly like this: storing up energy for all the socializing (read: classes) to come. And Idris Hall was reserved for upperclassmen, who generally waited until the last minute to move in, as if putting it off meant academics didn’t exist. So he got this week to himself, alone in the big silent empty dorm, emerging only for food, textbooks, and the occasional library run.

Until a rhythmic knock at the door startled him out of his Tuesday-afternoon Netflix marathon.

He stared at the door for a moment before shuffling his blanket and laptop off his lap. He’d lived in this same room for three years; everyone in the hall knew who he was, knew not to bother him before classes started. And other than the RA’s move-in, he hadn’t heard anyone else banging around.

Alec opened the door, looking down (he was tall, he lived that way). Then he blinked and raised his head.

Against his doorpost leaned possibly the most attractive man he’d ever seen.

He choked on his initial _uh_ and swallowed the unspoken word, unable to manage much more than that. This guy was definitely new to the hall; he’d have remembered seeing him before. Lean and lithe, he held his chin up with confidence that matched his pristine eyeliner and the smattering of glitter on his golden skin. Alec didn’t know or care much about clothes, but this man clearly did both—his bedazzled black tee and purple skinny jeans framed him perfectly.

So Alec asked the only reasonable question: “Do you have the right room?”

The man extended one arm out to his left, gesturing grandly to the rest of the empty hall. “I hardly think I could have gotten it wrong. No one else is here.”

Alec folded his arms, touched by old insecurities. “The RA must have gone out,” he mumbled, looking away. That had to be why this guy was here, at Alec’s door: he needed the RA. “He never remembers to lock his door. You can just wait for him in his room, it’s fine.”

The visitor stared at him, eyebrows raised high over angled eyes, until Alec fell silent and looked grudgingly back at him. At that point he said, “I’m not looking for the RA. I need a little help. A favor.” He crossed one leg over the other, hooking his shoes together at the ankles.

Alec found it easier not to dwell on the various types of favors and his willingness to do them. “Who are you?” he asked instead.

“Magnus.” The guy, Magnus, stuck out his hand amiably. “Magnus Bane. And you’re…” He craned his neck back to look at the name stuck on the door, and Alec deliberately looked away from the sliver of flat stomach that his shirt revealed. “Alec Lightwood? What is that, short for Alexander?”

How did he manage to make the full name sound so rich? Something in the way he rolled the consonants? “No, it’s—well, yes, but it’s just Alec.” Alec could feel heat prickling up his face, and he prayed the blush remained light enough that Magnus wouldn’t notice. He shook Magnus’s proffered hand once and then yanked his hand back, wriggling his fingers to get rid of the tingling. “Are you moving into Idris, or just helping someone else?”

“Oh, I’m moving in,” he assured him, green-gold eyes creasing in a smile. “That’s what the favor’s for.”

Ah, of course. He _would_ have a ton of stuff to cart up the stairs. Alec debated whether spending a few extra minutes with Magnus was worth the physical effort... and decided that yes, yes it was. “Sure, I can help you bring your stuff up.”

Magnus’s eyes widened in brief surprise. “Oh, no, not that. I have that taken care of. No, this requires… a more delicate approach.”

“Oh.” The heat rushed to his face again, and Alec absolutely knew it was visible this time. “What, then?”

Magnus eyed him for a moment too long to be comfortable, and then the corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Can you,” he asked, lowering his voice, “help me sneak my cat into the dorm?”

Alec blanked. He _could_ , sure. It remained within his realm of capabilities. But— “That’s against the rules,” he said, feeling like he had word diarrhea.

“Well, yes,” Magnus said with exaggerated patience. “Hence, _sneaking_.”

“Why—?”

“He couldn’t exactly stay in an empty apartment during the entire school year. Besides, he’s quiet. No one will even know he’s here. Besides you. And me. Of course.”

Alec couldn’t fault Magnus for maintaining responsibility; in fact, it  came as a pleasant surprise. But the rules remained. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the options: A, alert the RA or RD. Magnus would lose his cat for sure. B, do nothing. Magnus on his own drew too much attention, so he’d probably get caught and lose the cat.

C, help.

Alec shifted his weight and slid past Magnus to stand in the hall. “Where is it?” he asked, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his ratty sweatpants.

Magnus beamed, and Alec coughed a tiny laugh that left him with an even tinier smile, a smile that he couldn’t wipe away as he followed Magnus down the stairs, past all the RAs in the lobby, and out to the parking lot, out to a shining yellow Corvette. _Dear Lord,_ Alec thought in awe, considering his dilapidated ancient Oldsmobile van. _How does he even exist?_

Magnus bent over to reach down into the passenger seat, which provided Alec a fine-ass view, quite literally. When he straightened (and Alec looked up), he held in his arms a small mound of tawny fluff that might pass as a cat in good light. Then the mound blinked its eyes open, revealing almost the same shade as its owner’s. “This is Chairman Meow.”

Without thinking, Alec held out one hand, fingers curled into the palm, for the cat’s approval. It sniffed his knuckles, considered, and then lightly nosed him.

“He likes you!” Magnus sounded pleased, and maybe a little surprised.

Alec shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “Cats usually do.”

“Well, good.” Magnus handed the Chairman over to Alec, who hurried to cup one hand under its hind legs. “What we’re going to do is—I’m going to distract the RAs, get them to help me cart all my shit up to my room. And while we’re doing that, you can just kind of slide in through the side, all incognito, and hide the Chairman until I can come get it from you. The RAs won’t bother you, right?”

“Right.” The momentary glow faded from Alec’s chest, despite the cat’s warmth. He should have known Magnus wasn’t interested in him as a friend, as a person; he’d only noticed that Alec all but had the superpower of invisibility. He lowered his gaze to the cat. “Sure, that’s fine.”

“Excellent.” Then Magnus called over to someone pulling into the lot. Alec heard footsteps and an engine revving, and looked up only in time to see the Indonesian man trotting over to a piled-high pickup truck. A girl with vivid blue hair shot him a rude gesture but pulled over in front of Idris Hall.

Alec’s fingers dug into the thick fur, scratching more than petting. Chairman Meow twisted in faint displeasure, but he held him firm. _This was a mistake,_ he realized too late. _A stupid mistake. I should never have even opened the door._

Yet when the RAs rushed out to help Magnus and the blue-haired girl unload the truck, Alec held the cat to his chest and slipped in through the side door, padded upstairs to his room, and closed the door behind him. The cat curled into his side as he resumed his Netflix, but he found less repose in his show now. The soft, sleepy purr vibrated through his fingers, and he clenched his jaw, willing himself not to be so hurt by ten minutes’ interaction.

Magnus had discarded him. So? Many people had discarded him, many who’d known him better and longer. That was just the way it was. _And the sooner I realize that, the easier life will be,_ he scolded himself. No need to feel so disappointed. If he had hoped…

No. No hopes.

An episode later, the same rhythmic knock tapped against the door, though quieter this time. Alec covered the sleeping cat with his blanket and then slid off the bed to answer. He cracked the door open and saw in the sliver of hallway light one cat’s-green eye traced in charcoal and fringed in glitter.

“They’re all downstairs again,” whispered the perfect full lips, and Alec opened the door all the way, turning back to collect Chairman Meow. “Did he do okay for you?”

“Yes.” Alec clipped the word short. “He was fine.” He scooped up the cat and handed it to its owner, who accepted it but looked a little rocked at his change in demeanor.

“Thank you for helping me,” Magnus said, though he had his cat and, Alec figured, probably would rather have gone to see someone, anyone, else. “I really appreciate it. So does the Chairman. We owe you.”

 _Right, sure._ Alec ached. “Don’t worry about it.” He had no interest in gaining a pity favor in return.

But instead of taking the offered out, Magnus cocked his head and, pulling a shamed frown, leaned back against the closet. “We didn’t really get to talk much before I left, did we? I’m sorry. That was bad form.”

Alec shifted his weight, unwilling to agree aloud but physically incapable of lying to disagree.

“Look,” said Magnus, a tad unnecessarily, since when he was in the room, it was difficult for Alec to do anything else. “I’m just a couple doors down, and there’s next to no one moved in so far. Want to go out for dinner?” To ward off protest, he added, “Consider it a thank-you, or an apology. Or both. Mostly I’d just rather not be alone.”

Alec considered this. And he considered saying _Well,_ _I’m perfectly fine alone, but thanks anyway_ and shooing this insane, colorful enigma out of his room and going back to Netflix.

But when he opened his mouth, what came out was “Okay. Um, sure.”

Relief—and genuine pleasure? no, certainly not—shone through Magnus’s bright smile.


End file.
